Secrets We Keep

by Angel Lawson

  “She seriously said that?” Belcher asks.

  I snort. “Yeah. You know Rose has never been the type to pull punches. That girl knows what she wants, when she wants it. No one is going to get in her way.”

  “Sounds like her father,” the Chief says. “Did she give any indication that she was depressed or may harm herself in some way.”

  “No.”

  “Did she seem like she was thinking about running away?”

  “The only thing she said was that she was tired of Thistle Cove. I think ‘bored’ was the word she used. When I told her I needed to head out and go to the bonfire, she kind of laughed like it was dumb, which was rich since she’s head cheerleader and into all that shit.” McMichael gives me a warning glare for my language and I mutter, “Sorry.”

  “She didn’t owe you money or anything like that?”

  “Nah. Rose always had plenty of cash.”

  Belcher’s pen slows. “Do you know where she got it from?”

  Again, I shrug. “Her daddy? I don’t know.” Saying that makes me think something. “You know, something I just remembered. Right before I left she got a phone call. The name on the screen said, ‘Daddy.’”

  “Her father?”

  “I guess. Who else would it be?” I lean back in my seat. “That’s all I know. Can I go?”

  He looks at Belcher and she shakes her head.

  “You can go. For now.”

  “You got it.” I give him a salute. “I’m on the straight and narrow now, Chief. No more trouble, I swear.”

  “Does that mean I’ll see you on the football field Friday night?”

  “That’s the plan,” I say, but pause. “If you want to guarantee that, please don’t call my dad.”

  He waves me off and I go, feeling calmer with every step. The truth doesn’t come naturally but, for once, I didn’t have anything to hide.

  It’s a strange, strange feeling.

  21

  Kenley

  Although it’s weird not to drive Alice home after school, the front passenger seat isn’t empty. I saw Ozzy as I left the main building and offered him a ride. We’ve just pulled out of the parking lot when his phone buzzes. He opens his screen and says, “They found something.”

  My stomach plummets and nausea churns. “Did they say what?”

  “No. My parents are helping with the search,” he says, reading the message. “They say they were about to call it off for the day when someone found something in a shallow pool on the edge of the water.”

  He types quickly, thumbs flying over the screen.

  “My mom says it’s a piece of jewelry. A charm of some kind.”

  “A heart with two hands?”

  He types something out as I continue to drive back home. I’ve gone the long way again, away from the bridge.

  “Yes.” He narrows his eyes. “That’s Irish, right?”

  “A Claddagh.”

  “Rose wore one of those. Every day. Finn gave it to her.” A sob wracks through me and I pull the car to the side of the road, slamming the brakes. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this is happening.”

  Ozzy reaches across the center of the car and rests his hand on my leg. “You don’t know that it means anything.”

  “We know it means she’s probably not playing a prank, or off shopping and having fun. It means that something happened to her that night that made her lose the necklace she wore every single day.”

  “Maybe she got pissed at Finn and tossed it in the water.”

  “It would sink like a stone.”

  He rubs my knee. “You don’t know that, KK.”

  I look up at him. That nickname. I haven’t heard it in years, but that’s twice now one of the guys have used it. It warms my heart, just like looking at his sweet, handsome face. At his kind, pleading eyes. He wants to believe what he’s saying as much as he wants me to.

  I take a deep breath and say, “I know something is wrong. Very wrong. Rose is in trouble or worse.”

  A fat tear rolls down my cheek, and he reaches up, catching it with his thumb. He holds my face like that for a heartbeat, a long one where we just look at one another; two old friends struggling with loss and confusion.

  “We’ll find out what happened to her,” he says, thumb stroking my cheek. “I promise.”

  I didn’t realize how important that was to me until he said it. “Thank you.”

  He holds my face and my eyes for a moment longer before blinking and dropping his hand. He clears his throat and looks back down at his phone—which has a long line of messages showing.

  My hands shake when I grip the wheel again—I’m not sure if it’s from the news about the charm or from the intimate moment Ozzy and I just shared. Maybe both.

  I ease back out on the road and head home, knowing that whatever is happening with the case right now, and possibly whatever just transpired with the boy next to me, is only the beginning.

  While making dinner, my mom turns on the TV to catch up on the local news.

  Janice Hill, the local reporter, stands just outside the police-taped-off bridge.

  “It was a long day for residents of Thistle Cove, a sleepy, tight-knit town thirty miles south of the city. Hundreds of volunteers took the day off to help search for clues in the disappearance of seventeen-year-old Rose Waller. Rose’s car was found abandoned on the bridge just over forty-eight hours ago, and family and friends have had no contact with her since.”

  Juliette’s face fills the screen—obviously from an earlier interview.

  “You’re Rose’s best friend. Can you tell me how you’re handling everything going on?”

  “It’s rough, Janice,” Juliette says, looking like she just swiped on a fresh coat of mascara. “Rose and I did everything together. We had so many plans for senior year. We’re co-captains of the cheer squad, and we’ve been visiting colleges. I know people think that Rose left on her own, but I don’t believe it. There’s no way she’d leave and not tell me. There’s no way she’d leave her boyfriend, Finn, and not let him know. It’s just not like her.”

  As much as I hate Juliette, she’s right.

  “So you’re concerned that something terrible has happened to her?”

  Juliette bites down on her bottom lip and nods, a single, fat tear rolling down her face. “Deep down it’s my biggest fear.” She sniffs. “But until I know for sure, I’ll keep looking for her and holding out hope.”

  Janice turns away from Juliette and faces the camera. “Another announcement was made today by local lawyer Ezra Baxter. He held a meeting a short while ago.”

  Again, the screen flips and Mr. Baxter, who is just as handsome, if not more so than his son, stands in front of the police station. “As a long-time friend of the Waller family, I’m devastated about the news of Rose’s disappearance. I’d like to offer a ten-thousand-dollar reward for any credible information that comes in about Rose’s whereabouts. Hopefully anyone reluctant to come forward with details about what happened to Rose two nights ago will be motivated to do so.”

  Janice faces the camera. “As you can tell, the community love and support is strong in Thistle Cove…”

  She rambles on for a few more minutes, mentioning the football game still scheduled to take place on Friday and additional searches the next day. I ease away, overwhelmed with how Rose’s disappearance has taken over every aspect of our lives, and it doesn’t seem like that’s going to change any time soon.

  I’m sitting at my desk, working on my Spanish homework, halfway conjugating verbs and halfway thinking about the glint of gray in Ozzy’s eyes today when we were in the car. I’m not sure, because I don’t have much experience with this stuff, but I think he wanted to kiss me. The hair prickled on the back of my neck and his eyes darted down to my lips. Classic signs, right?

  I start to pick up my phone to call Alice. We can over-analyze this for hours if we need to. It’s been done before. But I remember that we’re taking a break from one another
right now, and the light across the way turns on, and a bright glare shines through the dark.

  From my window, I can see Finn as he leans over his desk, and after a bit of a struggle, gets his window to open, lifting it over his head. The motion reveals the toned abs that ladder up his stomach. There are times I don’t want to feel attraction to Finn, years and months of me willing it away, but I can’t help myself.

  Once his window is secure he gestures for me to do the same. I freeze and seriously have one of those ‘who me?’ moments, like in the movies.

  He nods, and I crawl on top of mine to reach the little finger ledge. I do so, managing to only knock off my Spanish book in the process. Mine slides open easily and when I look up again, he’s out on the small ledge that acts as an awning for the side door below. I crawl out to the wider surface of the roof that makes up the porch roof.

  “Hey,” he says, modulating his voice for the distance but not too loud to alert our parents.

  “Hi.”

  He’s barefoot and wearing purple sweatpants with the number 14 stamped on the hip. The casual outfit is rounded out with a purple and gold football hoodie. The temperature cooled, and I’m regretting the thin fabric of my nightshirt with nothing over it.

  “You think I can make it?” he asks, eyeing the gap between our houses. It’s not huge, but it’s a good drop to the concrete driveway below.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  He grins, and it’s nice to see it on his face. He presses back against the house, laying his hand flat against the siding. I think he’s joking—God, tell me he’s joking—but he takes two quick steps and leaps over the space, hurtling through the air.

  “Finn!” I shout, then covering my mouth, unable to close my eyes. He lands with a thud, caterwauling into the side of the house. His chest heaves, that grin now smug with success. He opens his mouth to speak, but I place my finger to his lips.

  “Shhh!”

  “Ken?” My dad calls from the hallway. “Everything okay in there?”

  I stick my head through the open window. “Yep. Just dropped a stack of books!”

  “Okay then. Don’t stay up too late.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I wait a beat, then pull my head back out.

  “They’re really into the ‘I love yous’ since everything with Rose,” I say, turning to face him.

  My finger is still pressed against Finn’s warm, soft lips, and I jerk it away. He looks from my face, down to my chest and I’m suddenly very aware of just how thin my shirt is. I cross my arms, and he swiftly pulls his hoodie over his head, revealing a long-sleeved T-shirt.

  “Here, take my sweatshirt, I’m hot anyway.”

  I’d argue, but in the faint light coming from the windows I can see the pink warming his cheeks. It could be from seeing my nipples trying to cut their way through my shirt, but it’s more likely from that death-defying leap. Dumbass.

  I tug the soft, clean-smelling shirt over my head, feeling the lingering warmth of Finn’s body.

  “Thank you.”

  “Sure.”

  “Promise me one thing.”

  He tilts his head. “What’s that?”

  “Never do something like that again.”

  He grins, again. “I’ve been wanting to try that since I was about ten. I finally have the height and speed to pull it off.”

  I try not to be obvious as my eyes sweep over his broad shoulders and ridiculously long arms. “Yeah,” I mutter, “I guess you do.”

  He sits first, hanging his legs over the edge of the roof. I follow, my hands swallowed in the size of the sweatshirt. Once we’re settled, I ask, “How are you?”

  His mood instantly shifts, and I feel crappy for asking, but he answers anyway. “Okay, I guess.”

  “I heard about the charm they found in the water. Is it the one you gave her?”

  “Chief McMichael brought it by earlier for me to look at.” He frowns. “It’s definitely the one I bought for her.”

  “That really…”

  “Sucks,” he says, his shoulder brushing mine. He takes a deep breath and exhales. “I have no fucking idea how to deal with all of this.”

  “One shitty day at a time, I guess.”

  “I just keep running everything through my mind—the days leading up to the first day of school. Did I miss something? She was always talking about so much trivial shit,” he runs his hand through his hair, “that I just started to tune it all out. I’m a shitty boyfriend.”

  I reach for his arm, the one attached to the hand tugging the ends of his hair. Slowly he stops, but I don’t move my hand, just holding onto him. “You don’t have to explain Rose to me. I know she and I haven’t been friends in a long time, but people don’t change. Not people like Rose. She was bossy and loud and had big dreams. She loved hard and when she was done with something, someone,” I swallow, “she was done. The fact they found that charm says something. You were with her until the end. I’m the one that didn’t fight for her.”

  He looks up at me, blue eyes soft. “That’s not true.”

  “It is. I let Juliette walk into Thistle Cove and steal my best friend—no, best friends--from me. All over petty bullshit.” I look down at my knees. “Thank you for the apology today. I know it didn’t seem like it, but I appreciate it. A lot.”

  “I never should have let that happen.”

  “You didn’t spray paint my house. They did.”

  “No, I didn’t, and I tried my hardest to make sure you didn’t see it. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to it fast enough.”

  “What?” I frown. “What are you talking about?"

  “That night when the girls went to the party at Rich Crawford’s house, I stayed back and painted over the mess on the garage. I did it hoping you’d never find out what happened.”

  “You did that?” I’m stunned. Completely bewildered.

  He seems equally confused. “You didn’t know?”

  “I thought my dad did it. Wow.” I swing my feet. “After all these years, the truth comes out.”

  “That I’m not a massive dick?”

  “Well,” I nudge him with my shoulder. “I didn’t say that.”

  We sit in silence for a few moments, processing the misunderstanding that altered the course of our friendship for three years.

  “I missed you,” he says in a quiet voice.

  My heart flip-flops. He’s always done this to me. Always. “I missed you, too.”

  “Do you think we can be friends again?”

  “What happens if Rose comes back?”

  The dark, sad look in his eye tells me he doesn’t believe that will be a problem. “Then she’ll have to deal with it.” He tosses his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. “Because now that you’re back in my life, I’m not planning on losing you again.”

  Warmth spreads through my body, not just from his touch but his words. Even so, I’m hesitant; if Rose does come back, then all of this may be gone. And if she doesn’t?

  Then being friends may be the last thing on any of our minds.

  22

  Ozzy

  When I come down for breakfast, my mom has the TV turned on. Brice Waller stands in the spot where Rose’s car was abandoned, looking solemn when Janice Hill from Channel Five news holds a microphone to his face and asks, “What does it feel like to have the active water search for your daughter called off?”

  “It doesn’t feel great,” he admits, looking tired but distinguished. His campaign button is visible, as always. “I know the rescue team and police, state and local, have done everything possible to find my baby girl.” He grimaces. “But even though the water search is over, we’re not giving up hope.”

  “On a professional note, how is this tragedy affecting your campaign?”

  The question is rude and inconsiderate, but like always, Brice Waller takes it in stride. “Rose knows how important my commitment to this town i
s to me and the family. She would be devastated if I backed out of the race over something like this. Luckily, I have an amazing staff that can help fill in the gaps right now. Once Rose is home, we’ll dive back in.”

  The camera shifts away from Mr. Waller, to Janice. “Such strong dedication to both family and to the community. We wish them luck as this nightmare continues.”

  She takes a step over and the camera moves to Chief McMichael.

  “Chief, what are your thoughts on searchers locating the charm she’s known to wear around her neck? Do you feel like that’s a sign she was in the water? Or do you feel like that’s a red herring of some kind?”

  The Chief straightens his hat—he too looks exhausted. “We’re continuing to process and collect all evidence in the disappearance of Rose Waller. Right now we’re as stumped as anyone else, but until we have proof otherwise, we will consider this a missing persons case. Nothing more.”

  “There are a lot of rumors--” Janice starts.

  The Chief holds up his hand. “We don’t operate on rumors, Ms. Hill. We work from evidence, and if anyone can come to us with something new, we’re happy to follow up on it. Thank you, I’ve got to go.”

  Janice faces the camera. “That’s the latest update on the Rose Waller disappearance, and three days later, police don’t seem to have much more information than they did the day they found her car abandoned on Carter’s Bridge. As always, if you have information for the police, contact them immediately.

  Mom presses mute and the news shifts to the weather. She gives me a sympathetic grin. “How you holding up?”

  “Okay.” I grab a box of cereal off the counter and pour a heap into a bowl. Milk follows.

  “I know this is hard on all of you.” She searches my face. “Have you spoken to Finn?”

  Yeah, Mom. We’re in this new club of kids called in to talk to the cops—kids tainted by being currently or formerly friends with Rose Waller. We have a club house where we meet up and get high, oh and by the way, I think I’m falling in love with Kenley Keene even though she’s still hung up on Finn Holloway.